


The death of me

by bloodamber



Series: Umbrella Academy - Missing Scene's, Fix-its & Indulgent Ramblings [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Bonding, Canon Rewrite, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, Episode: s01e04 Man on the Moon, Gen, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Good Sibling Ben Hargreeves, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Sober Klaus Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24942073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodamber/pseuds/bloodamber
Summary: Klaus isn’t sure what drives his next movement. He had never been particularly brave or self-sacrificing – usually leaving those stupid heroics to Luther or Diego. But he is suddenly on his feet and stepping in between the detective and the hitwoman as she pulls the trigger.The bullet hits his chest moments later and Klaus staggers back, feeling the impact like a punch to the chest.-Klaus’s rescue from Hazel and Cha Cha plays out a little differently. Instead of escaping through the vent and disappearing into the past, Klaus takes the bullet meant for Detective Patch and bleeds out on the motel floor. The thing is, he doesn’t stay dead.Cue, afterlife epiphanies, surprise revivals and Diego & Ben being mother hens.[AU, set during Episode 4: Man on the Moon]
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone
Series: Umbrella Academy - Missing Scene's, Fix-its & Indulgent Ramblings [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697917
Comments: 161
Kudos: 1380
Collections: The Best of Klaus





	1. Death is only the start

Klaus brings his head down on the table, his cry of pain muffled by the tape across his mouth, but desperate need driving his actions.

He feels woozy, his actions becoming sluggish with each new thump of his head against the table but he forces himself to keep going, hoping it will be enough to alert the person in the hallway.

Klaus almost gives up, too dizzy and weak to keep going, when he hears the sound of the door unlocking. Pulling himself more or less upright, Klaus blinks rapidly to clear his vision of tears so he can see if this will be his rescue or his death.

A small part of him hopes for it to be one of his siblings, perhaps Diego bursting in with knives flying. Klaus isn’t against playing the damsel in distress in this situation, just as long as he can get out of this motel room – away from the torture and unbearable withdrawal symptoms – so he can find a quiet place to get high and forget the past couple of days even happened.

But when he finally manages to focus his gaze he sees a young woman with dark hair, holding a gun with trained ease.

A cop then. Klaus has had enough run-ins with cops to spot them in plainclothes. After surveying the room, the woman lowers her gun and focuses on him, eyes widening as she fully takes in his current state.

“Are you Diego's brother?” She asks and he nods frantically, the _yeah_ coming out muffled behind his gag.

“Detective Patch,” she introduces herself, “just hold tight and I’ll get you out of here.”

Klaus tilts his head back, frantically trying to warn her through his gag of the two psychopaths in the bathroom. She nods, bringing her finger to her lips before pulling out a blade and slicing the tape that holds him to the chair. 

He pulls his hands to his chest as they are free, flexing and twisting his wrists with muffled sounds of relief as the blood returns to his numb fingers in a tingly rush. 

Pulling the tape from his mouth, Klaus has to stifle the gasp of pain when half his facial hair seems to come off in the process.

"They- they're in the bathroom." He tells her, his voice hoarse.

The detective indicates her understanding, slicing the last of the tape holding him to the chair and tucking away her knife.

“Can you walk?” 

At Klaus’s nod, she continues; "You should leave, get somewhere safe." 

Klaus nods again and with her help, shakily gets to his feet, tucking the towel around his waist more securely when it threatens to fall off.

His whole body aches, muscles sore from being forced into the same position for nearly two days, on top of the less than gentle treatment he had endured. His abdomen and chest feel the worst, bruises decorating his ribs from the beatings he endured, and the abrasions and burns inflicted on his back and arms flare with pain as his movement pulls on the barely healed wounds.

He manages a couple of steps forward when the sound of the bathroom door opening has him tensing up and Klaus turns to see the man, Hazel, step out, gun raised.

The next thing Klaus knows he’s on the floor – having been pushed there by the detective – as gunshots ring out in the silence on the room. 

“Police!” Detective Patch calls out, “drop the gun or you’re going down.” 

Klaus gets to his hand and knees behind the bed with Ben crouched next to him, his face now eye level with a large vent on the wall in front of him. He gives it an experimental tug but it stays stubbornly fixed to the wall, his fingers still too numb to be much help in unscrewing it from the wall.

Turning, Klaus eyes the open doorway instead and wonders if he could make a dash for it while the detective has them distracted. 

"You can do this Klaus,” Ben encourages, but Klaus hesitates when he spots his discarded coat laying across the bed. He grabs it and stiffly tugs it over his body, patting the pockets in the hopes some drugs might have gone unnoticed.

But the pockets are empty, not even one measly pill left to take the edge off.

“Come on, Klaus, you can run out and call Diego,” Ben coaxes again and this time Klaus forces his stiff body to move, shuffling to the corner and peering out. The cop is approaching the bathroom door with her gun raised and he can hear the muffled voice of Hazel coming from the bathroom.

“Alright, I’m coming out. Don’t shoot!”

A moment later a gun is tossed out of the door before Hazel steps out with his hands raised above his head. He is speaking slowly and calmly as the detective approaches him, kicking the gun out of his reach and instructing him to get on the ground.

But the situation isn’t right. There is no sign of the woman – Cha Cha – and Klaus knows by this point that she is the dangerous one in the duo.

He opens his mouth, thinking to warn the detective when he registers a flicker of movement in his peripheral, from the window. 

“ _Klaus!_ ” Ben’s voice has him turning to see his brother now standing by the door, looking out with dismay. “She’s coming!”

Before he can think of anything but _‘oh shit’_ Cha Cha appears in the doorway to the motel room, her gun raised and aimed at the detective’s unprotected back.

He isn’t sure what drives his next movement. He had never been particularly brave or self-sacrificing – usually leaving those stupid heroics to Luther or Diego. But he is suddenly on his feet and stepping in between the detective and the hitwoman as she pulls the trigger. 

The bullet hits his chest moments later and Klaus staggers back, feeling the impact like a punch to the chest. Looking down he sees an entry wound in the middle of his chest, surprisingly small and clean. The pain is yet to hit but Klaus knows it’s coming, once the shock and adrenaline wear off. 

There are the sounds of a struggle behind him before another gunshot sounds out. Klaus might have considered turning or at least ducking out of the way but his body feels outside of his control at that moment, and he is stuck looking down at the wound that had started to ooze out blood, the red of it stark against his pale skin.

Klaus hears his name being called out and manages to lift his head up, catching sight of Diego in the entrance to the room, Cha Cha lying still at his feet, two knives embedded in her back.

“Oh, hello, Diego,” Klaus murmurs before he finds himself on the floor again, legs giving way as the pain finally hits. But Diego is there moments later, turning Klaus over and pressing his hands over the wound on Klaus’ chest.

Klaus gasps out profanities, the pain really setting in. His chest feels like someone carved his chest open with a hot blade. He writhes, hands coming up to tug at Diego’s arms because it fucking _hurts_.

“I know, man, but I have to keep pressure on the wound.”

Black spots fill his vision and Klaus feels like he’s on the verge of passing out, except for the pain that keeps him horribly awake as the burning in his chest continues to get worse.

Diego is talking urgently with the Detective above him, but can’t make out their words through the ringing in his ears. 

He can see the flickering shapes of ghosts around him, looming over him, like hungry sharks scenting his blood and wonders if perhaps this will be when he finally joins them. He had seen plenty of death in his lifetime – has seen enough fatal wounds on the ghosts that surround him – to know he doesn’t have a chance of surviving this. The news is less of a shock than Klaus might have thought. He always assumed he would die earlier than his siblings, simply due to his lifestyle choices, so at least this way he would go out as a hero. The thought brings a smile to his face.

He spots Ben, standing over Diego’s shoulder, looking distraught and Klaus’s smile slips into a frown. That’s not right, Ben should be happy cause Klaus is finally going to cross over and keep him company. 

“It’s okay Ben,” Klaus murmurs, “I’ll see you soon, okay buddy…”

Ben looks even more distraught at his words but Klaus’ brain is too fuzzy to figure it out because surely Ben would be happy. They can be best bro’s in the afterlife forever.

“What– Klaus, don’t you fucking dare,” Diego is shaking him now and Klaus drags his eyes back to focus on his other brother.

“Don’t be sad, Dee,” Klaus whispers, reaching up to pat at Diego’s cheek, frowning when he leaves red marks behind.

“Then don’t die. Just hold on.” Diego growls, pressing down harder on the gunshot wound in Klaus’ chest, but Klaus can hardly feel the pain now, everything going pleasantly hazy. It’s like getting high, and Klaus wonders why he hadn’t tried this earlier. It feels so easy to slip further into the haze, relaxing into the blissful sensation of nothing.

“No, no, no, Klaus, stay with me, m-man.”

Klaus can see the unshed tears in Diego’s eyes, and with a pang realizes that maybe his brother might actually miss him. He wants to reassure Diego, tell him he is fine with this. That dying feels a lot like fate.

But talking is beyond him now, so he just smiles up at Diego, small and genuine. He hopes Diego will understand that this isn’t his fault. That Klaus is at peace. That he is happy to go like this.

Then closing his eyes, Klaus lets himself slip into the waiting embrace of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first multi-chapter TUA fic! I am excited and also nervous to be posting this because I have a terrible track record when it comes to updating multi-chapter wips but I am trying my best to get the bulk of this written this month (before the s2 premiere)! Not entirely sure how long this will end up being, but I have at least 5 chapters planned. Guess it depends how much you guys enjoy it :)
> 
> ALSO
> 
> Oh. My. God. That s2 trailer. I am HYPED.  
> It has made me super determined to finish up a few of the Umbrella Academy wips I have had lying about before s2 blows my mind and steals my muse. So keep an eye out for those!


	2. the weight of this grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Who’s ready for some Diego angst??? 
> 
> Also me: _*waves hand in air aggressively while typing with the other*_

Diego pulls up in front of the motel with a screech of burning rubber, parking across two spaces in his haste to get out of the car and find his brother. 

Since the realization that Klaus had been kidnapped from the house nearly two days earlier, Diego has been fueled by desperation he hadn’t felt since his days in the Academy; when he would be fighting alongside his siblings, knowing that one mistake could be the matter of life and death for any of them.

Since childhood, he had always felt a certain protective instinct towards the numbers below him, his designation making him feel like the older brother. And where Allison and Five had always scoffed at his older brother schtick, Klaus had embraced it wholeheartedly. And it only made Diego feel even more guilty for not noticing Klaus’ disappearance sooner. 

He had assumed – like all the others – that Klaus had been off getting high somewhere and he hadn’t bothered to check in on him in the aftermath. A mistake that Diego was cursing himself for now. 

He had driven like a madman from the gym, thankful for the lack of traffic on the roads that allowed him to make the trip in less than 10 minutes. He only hopes he has arrived in time to prevent Patch from walking into an unknown situation with no backup.

Running to the front office, Diego pushes his way through the doors and looks around for Eudora, a bad feeling growing in his gut when he doesn’t see her waiting for him. He knows better than to think she had left without seeing things through, which only left him with the unsettling conclusion that she had gone in without backup.

The man behind the counter barely bats an eyelid at the sight Diego must make, storming up to the counter, covered in knives and with an expression that promises retribution to anyone who gets in the way of him finding his brother.

“Here to book a–”

“I’m looking for a cop.” Diego interrupts, “female, dark hair, goes by Detective Patch.”

The man inspects his nails for a moment, and Diego has to fight the urge to throw a knife at the man to loosen his tongue a little faster.

“Yeah, we might have had someone like that around here.” The man drawls at last.

“Where did she go?”

“Dunno,” the man shrugs, “none of my business what goes on in this motel.”

Growling, Diego decides it would be faster to simply search the motel hallways himself. He pushes out of the office, heading towards the first block of rooms, prepared to kick every door down if necessary if that is what it takes to find his brother. 

He has just reached the first room when the sound of muffled gunshots above him has him turning on his heel and sprinting towards the nearest stairwell, pulling the longer knives on his back free, prepared for anything.

Taking the steps two at a time Diego bursts onto the second level and immediately spots the figure of the woman assassin standing at the open doorway of a motel halfway down the passageway, recognizable even without her cartoon mask on.

The knives leave his hands before he even has time to think, curved at a lethal trajectory to puncture the assassin’s lungs, done with playing fair. He sees her drop as he runs the rest of the distance, a new blade already poised to throw.

“ _ Klaus! _ ” He calls as he reaches the open door, prepared to leap into action. But what he sees has him freeze in place instead.

Klaus stands facing him in the middle of the room, dressed in only a blood-stained towel and a black trench coat pulled over his shoulders. He can see Patch over Klaus’s shoulder and the other assassin lying on the ground at her feet.

But that isn’t what grabs Diego’s attention. 

It is the bullet wound in the middle of his brother's chest, dark blood already bubbling out and staining Klaus’s pale chest red. 

Klaus looks up at him and smiles.

“Oh, hello, Diego,” Klaus murmurs like he hasn’t just been shot, clearly in shock, before he falls to the ground.

Diego isn’t fast enough to catch him but he drops to his knees and quickly rolls Klaus over so he can place his hands over the bullet wound. Klaus swears at him, his hands coming up to scratch and tug at Diego's arms but Diego keeps his hands firmly over the wound, trying to ignore how quickly the blood soaks through his gloves.

“I know, man, but I have to keep pressure on the wound.” 

As focused as he is on keeping his brother from bleeding out, he forgets all about Patch until she calls his name.

He looks up and finds her standing next to them, looking pale and shaken. Her gun is still out and he looks past her to see the male assassin is now handcuffed on the ground and seemingly out cold, blood soaking the carpet under his leg from a gunshot wound. Diego would have felt more vicious satisfaction at the sight if it wasn’t for his brother bleeding out under his hands.

“Can you call for help, he needs–”

“I have already called for backup and an ambulance.” She interrupts and Diego nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly in relief that she had things under control before returning his focus to his brother, whose struggles had become weaker as more of his blood pours from the wound. Diego’s gloves are completely soaked through now and yet it’s not enough. He looks around for something nearby to stem the bleeding when Klaus speaks.

“It’s okay Ben,” Klaus murmurs, and Diego whips his head back to stare at his brother, certain he had misheard.

Klaus’s gaze is fixed over Diego’s shoulder, expression remarkably clear and Diego can’t help but turn his head to check that his long-dead brother is standing behind him.

“I’ll see you soon, okay buddy…” 

Klaus’s next words chill Diego, not only because he is implying that Ben is in this room at this very moment, watching Diego fail to keep Klaus alive. But also because Klaus is talking like he has already admitted defeat.

“What– Klaus, don’t you fucking dare,” Diego pulls one of his hands off the wound to shake his brother by the shoulder, forcing Klaus's gaze to refocus on Diego.

“Don’t be sad, Dee,” Klaus whispers, his voice now barely audible, one of his hands coming up to pat at Diego’s cheek and Diego can feel the wet warmth of blood against his cheek.

“Then don’t die. Just hold on.” Diego growls, pressing down harder on the gunshot wound in Klaus’s chest like he can simply push the blood back in if he tries hard enough, but he can see Klaus slipping away from him with every second that passes.

“No, no, no, Klaus, stay with me, m-man.” His throat feels tight with grief and he nearly chokes on the words, begging his brother to hold on just a little longer. 

But Klaus only smiles up at him, the curve of his lips small but genuine.

And then he closes his eyes and falls still.

  
  
  
  


Diego doesn’t believe it at first. He refuses to acknowledge that his brother could be dead.

Surely he had simply passed out from the loss of blood, but with his hands on Klaus’s chest, he can feel the distinct lack of a heartbeat.

With shaking hands, Diego pulls his gloves off and presses his fingers to Klaus’s neck, searching for the pulse that  _ has _ to be there.

But there is nothing, not even a faint thump to be felt. Diego lets his hand curl around the back of Klaus' head and lifts him off the ground a little, still searching for any signs of life but his brother is limp in his arms, like a puppet with cut strings.

With his free hand Diego punches the floor next to him, and then he does it again, but the pain is not enough to distract him from the horrifying truth that his brother just died in his arms. Just like Ben had, all those years ago.

“Diego.” Eudora's voice is soft when she calls his name this time and he hates the pity he can hear in her voice. 

“Why didn’t you wait?” He demands before she can say anything more, the accusation coming out harsh and angry.

There is a long pause before Eudora speaks.

“I waited as long as I could. But… I–" she cuts herself off and when she speaks again, her words are quiet and mournful. 

"I’m sorry.”

Diego doesn’t know what to do with that.  _ Sorry _ didn't change anything – but neither did blaming Eudora. As much as he wanted to yell and rage at her he also knows that without her phone call he would have never noticed Klaus's absence at all. And that is really the real kicker.

He had been so caught up in his own grief at powering down Mom and then running around the city in search of Five, Klaus had been the farthest thing from his mind.

Without Eudora, Klaus would have been left to suffer without any hope for rescue. Not that any of that mattered now he was–

Diego shuts down that line of thought and instead funnels his grief into anger. After all, there was still one person who deserved retribution.

He lays Klaus down gently and gets to his feet, pulling knives from his harness and stepping towards the handcuffed male assassin on the ground who is starting to come round again.

Eudora moves in front of him before he can even make it a few steps, her hand on his chest.

“Diego, stop. I can’t let you do this.”

“He hurt my brother.”

“He isn’t a threat anymore.” Diego doubted that, having fought the man before. He knew just how skilled the man and his partner had been during their brief scuffle. All the more reason to put him down now while they have the advantage.

“We have him, he will be charged for this.” Eudora’s voice is imploring.

“It’s not enough. He deserves to die for what he did.” Diego glares down at the man who is now lucid enough to meet his gaze, looking far too calm and unperturbed by the whole situation and it makes Diego want to hurt him all the more. Make him regret ever laying a hand on his brother. 

He had been taught how to inflict pain during his training and although he had refused to ever use the knowledge he is tempted at this moment to succumb to the dark, ugly part of his mind that urges him to make this man at his feet  _ suffer _ .

“Diego, you already took your revenge.” Eudora’s gaze shifts to look over his shoulder at the woman lying in the doorway with his knives in her back. “Leave it there. Please, don't make me arrest you over this.”

A part of Diego doesn’t care. He would happily go to prison if it gave him free rein to pay back the man tenfold for every hurt he’d inflicted on Klaus. And he knows Eudora can't stop him if he really wants to. It would take the barest flick of his fingers to send the blade in his hand soaring into one of the many vulnerable and painful areas of the man’s body. 

Seeing her approach isn’t working, Eudora changes tracks.

“Would your brother want you to do this?”

“It doesn't matter what he wants!” Diego snarls, “because he's  _ d–d– _ " 

Diego can get himself to finish the sentence. This is one word he doesn't want to picture in his mind. 

“He saved my life.” Eudora’s quiet admission is what finally pierces through the haze of anger and Diego feels himself freeze where he stands, his grip tightening on the knives in his hands. 

“I didn’t even know there was another one of them behind me, I would have been shot... But he stepped in the way. He took the bullet meant for me.” Her voice is thick with emotion, eyes large and earnest. He can see the fear in them – the realization at how close she had come to death – and the guilt for being alive at the expense of another person’s life.

“Look, I did this your way. Now,  _ please _ , let me do it my way from here.”

Diego looks back down at the assassin at their feet, clinging to his rage for a moment longer before it deserts him, grief clawing its way back to the forefront of his mind until he slumps forward under the weight of it.

He feels Eudora’s hand shift from his chest to slip around his back in a one-armed hug, her gun still trained on the assassin who has been watching the exchange with the same disinterested expression as before, but wisely remains silent. 

Diego only allows himself to sink into Eudora’s hold for a moment before he shakes himself free from her embrace and turns back to Klaus.

His brother, lying dead on the floor.

The sight brings him to his knees again and he gathers Klaus in his arms, uncaring of the blood that stains his hands and clothes.

He can hear sirens in the distance now, but they are too little too late.

Eudora moves around him, pulling the injured assassin to his feet and forcing him to walk out of the room, heedless of his gunshot wound in his leg. The man grumbles at the treatment but doesn't resist and soon it is only Diego, Klaus and the dead woman left in the small motel room.

Diego is grateful that Eudora is giving him space, unable to stand any more of her well-meaning but ultimately futile gestures of comfort.

“I’m sorry, Klaus.” He whispers, head bowed, heedless of the tears that now dripped down his cheeks and onto his brother's rapidly cooling skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice, I’m sorry I couldn’t s-save you.” 

He waits for the response he knows isn’t coming, struck suddenly with the knowledge that he will never hear his brother's voice again. Will never get to listen to another one of Klaus’s terrible jokes or outrageous stories again or have someone to complain about Luther with.

It is like losing Ben all over again. Like part of his heart had been carved from his chest, leaving behind a gaping wound, and the reminder that for all his skills and training he hadn’t been good enough to save either of them.

Unwillingly, his mind skips back, focusing on the last moments he’d had with Klaus when Klaus had seemingly been speaking with Ben. Diego lifts his head, looking towards the spot where Klaus had talked to their dead brother, hoping perhaps to see some sign that Ben had really been there. That perhaps they are reuniting as he kneels there, in a pool of Klaus’s blood.

“Ben?” His voice is barely above a whisper, nearly drowned out by the sound of the approaching sirens.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’re even here. But…p– pl– please...” Diego cuts himself off, his shutter back in full force.

He swallows, tries again.

“Please, look after him, Ben,” he finishes, hoping that wherever his brothers are now, they are at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just need to say, you guys are really the sweetest ♥︎ Your response to the first chapter blew me away. I wasn't expecting such an outpouring of support and love for this fic but it had me motivated to finish up this second chapter to share with you all as soon as possible. Hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> ALSO, WE ARE LESS THAN 2 WEEKS AWAY FROM SEASON 2 AHHH


	3. I can’t go on without you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Ben angst since you all asked so nicely >:)

Ben didn’t think he would know what it would feel like to die twice.

But watching Klaus bleed out in Diego’s arms – seeing the _exact_ moment the light leaves Klaus’s eyes and his body falls limp – Ben feels the same tearing pain in his soul, like some essential part of him has been torn out and ripped to shreds. 

And in a way it has.

He had lost his only link to the living world. The only person who had been able to see and hear him – who had known him better than anyone – was gone. And now, Ben is simply one more lost soul in the world, left to scream out his fury and pain at those who will never hear him.

It hurts worse than when the Horrors had ripped him apart from the inside out. Knowing he is unable to do anything but stand there as Diego tries – and fails – to save Klaus. Watching as Diego shifts from denial to anger to grief, unable to even comfort his other brother and share the burden of their loss.

Always _watching_.

Stuck as a silent, _helpless,_ witness to all of his siblings suffering.

And after more than a decade of following Klaus around; seeing his brother struggle with his ability and spiral deeper and deeper into addiction, with nothing but words to offer in comfort, it has never gotten easier. 

Although he had never felt as useless as he did the moment Klaus got shot and then surrendered himself to death with hardly a fight – alive one minute and gone the next. The moment passing before Ben could find his voice to tell Klaus to fight. To hold on. To _live_.

Even as Klaus had promised to see Ben again in the afterlife, Ben could only feel horror at the thought of Klaus coming back, to then be stuck in the same hellish existence as him.

But now, Ben is faced with an eternity of solitude and without his brother to keep him anchored. The spark of normality he had clung for all these years had been ripped away the moment Klaus had died and Ben wonders how long it will take for him to lose himself completely to the yawning, empty existence stretching out in front of him.

He quickly shakes off the thoughts, terrified at the prospect, but his current reality isn’t much better to face.

Diego is on his feet and is currently arguing with the detective woman who had found Klaus, but their words wash over Ben like white noise as he steps closer to Klaus, who lays in a growing patch of his own blood.

He looks diminished by death, an empty vessel that had been cast aside like a broken doll and it’s so _wrong_ ; to see Klaus lying so still and knowing his brother will never move again.

It is times like this he wishes he could cry. Could turn his grief into something physical like tears. But the dead have no capacity for it and so instead, he feels the emotion well up inside of him until he is shaking with the force of it. His stomach writhes in response, the Horrors inside him reacting to his emotional pain and wanting _out_ – wanting to rip the people responsible to shreds. 

And still, the anguish builds and builds until he can no longer contain it – a decade of pent up rage and frustration and terror suddenly pouring out of him in a soul-wrenching cry of anguish.

It’s at that moment that Ben finally understands how the other ghosts he had encountered had become the deranged, wailing apparitions Klaus always tried so hard to keep away. It feels so easy to get lost in the maelstrom of emotion and let it take him over when the alternative is to fade away.

The other ghosts that had crowded around Klaus as he died, drawn to the spectacle of death, flee from his sudden wrath, leaving him alone with his grief – and with his brother's corpse.

When he finally falls silent he feels hollowed out and scraped raw. 

Diego is in a similar state when Ben finally refocuses back on the scene in front of him, finding his brother on his knees again, clutching Klaus’s limp body close despite the blood.

Ben has to look away from the guilt and pain etched into Diego’s face, instead watching the cop as she pulls the man, Hazel, to his feet. He complains but is surprisingly cooperative, his gaze sweeping over his partner with barely a flicker of emotion before his eyes cut across to the vent in the wall where Klaus had attempted to escape before being pushed from the room. 

Eager for a distraction, Ben takes a step forward, wondering what had caught the mans attention when–

“Ben?” 

The barely-there call of his name has Ben turning around in shock and all other thoughts are forgotten when he finds Diego looking towards where he is standing.

Ben feels frozen, a small sliver of hope blooming in his chest at the thought that maybe his brother can actually _see him_ before Diego’s eyes shift away to another spot and breaks the illusion. Ben has to swallow back the familiar taste of disappointment.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’re even here. But…p– pl– please...” Diego continues, stumbling over his word before he trails off. Ben steps forward, hoping that there would be more, needing Diego to keep talking, even if Ben can never respond.

Diego swallows and forcibly gathers himself before speaking again.

“Please, look after him, Ben,” Diego whispers the last words and Ben feels the last part of his un-beating heart break at the plea, wishing with all his being that he could fulfil Diego’s request and be there to help usher Klaus into death.

But Ben knows Klaus has gone beyond where he can follow. This is a journey Klaus must take on his own.

All he can do now is stand vigil over his brothers – both alive and dead – and hope that Klaus finds the peace that he never could in death. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, this chapter really fought me at every word. I rewrote it about 5 times and it never flowed quite right I was reaching a point where I was ready to throw my laptop across the room and I'm still not entirely happy with it but I really really wanted to include Ben's perspective since I have never written him before. So yeah, I hope it didn't suck 😂
> 
> FYI, the next chapter will be quite a bit longer and should answer some questions about what happened to Klaus. Keen to get into some more of the plot!
> 
> (ALSO, S2 DROPS IN ONE WEEK OMG I EXCITE)


	4. Being dead doesn't mean you get to rest

Klaus opens his eyes to the sight of trees above him, swaying in a soft breeze. 

He blinks and turns his head to the side, finding himself in a forest. The landscape around him is painted in shades of grey, and Klaus frowns, wondering how high he must be right now to be hallucinating something that looks so real around him.

Sitting up, Klaus notes absently he is completely naked – his body the same shades of grey as the landscape around him. The only splash of color is the blood dripping from a gunshot wound in his chest, the sight of it bringing back memories of his last few days on earth – from his kidnapping and the torture that followed, to his almost rescue by the detective woman and, perhaps most distinctly, getting shot.

And then more, seeing Diego's desperation as he fought to keep Klaus alive and Ben’s devastated expression as he watched Klaus bleed out on the floor.

Klaus lets out a hollow laugh. That’s right; he’s dead.

But despite the trauma of his death, Klaus feels a sense of relief at the knowledge. He _knows_ that he should feel something more – he should be shocked, sad, angry – but it all seems like a lot of effort, and Klaus thinks he would be happy to wallow in his current apathy for a while longer. 

Picking himself up off the forest floor, he absently wishes for some clothes. Between one blink and the next, he finds himself fully dressed in one of his usual ensembles – leather lace-up pants and a pink and orange tie-dyed shirt that is obnoxiously bright in the grayscale landscape.

Huh, neat. Turning in a circle, Klaus stretches, appreciating the lack of pain his body is in. And for once, his surroundings are quiet. No ghosts, no screaming, nothing but him and apparently a little girl on a bike, riding his way. He takes the strange development in stride and calls out as she gets closer.

“Yoo-hoo, hello?” 

The girl pulls to a stop, looking him over with an expression of idle disinterest. She is dressed in white, with long dark hair and eyes that pierce him through betraying wisdom beyond her years. She reminds him a little of Five, her body not an accurate reflection of the consciousness that resides within.

"Oh, it's you.” Her tone has Klaus feel as though he has disappointed her somehow.

“You know me?”

“I know everyone."

“Oh, well, that must be nice,” Klaus responds distractedly, looking around again and wondering if perhaps there was some gate he should be crossing through. Or even just a sign telling him what the hell he should be doing now.

“You’re dead, by the way.” The girl tells him, her eyes now locked onto the middle of his chest where his bullet wound is now covered.

“Kinda figured. It’s a relief, to be honest.”

“Not for me." She crosses her arms, "I had a whole plan, and you had to go mess things up.” 

“Didn’t realize my death would be such a bother.”

The girl just levels him with an unimpressed stare.

"It doesn't matter anyway because you can't stay here."

"Why not?"

"Because, frankly, I don't like you all that much." 

"Aren't you supposed to, you know, love us all, or something?"

"What gave you that idea? I made you so I could pick and choose."

Klaus processes that for a second before curiosity gets the better of him. "Okay, well, answer me this; if you made me and my siblings then tell me, what is the point of us? Of our powers? Because as far as I can tell, our best collective ability seems to be fucking things up.”

“Telling you would defeat the purpose of it all.”

"Oh, come on, I promise not to tell!" Klaus puts his hands together and widens his eyes pleadingly.

The girl ignores him, tilting her head slightly as though she is listening to something.

"You better get going. You don't have long left."

“Go where? Long for what?” Klaus is starting to get fed up with the cryptic answers. And here he thought death would bring some clarity.

“He’s waiting for you.” She replies instead, pointing to her left. Klaus follows the finger to see a small dilapidated structure not too far away. Then her words catch up to him, and he turns to her with a grin on his face.

“Ben,” Klaus breathes out before he is bounding off, all other thoughts discarded.

He can hardly contain the sudden joy that fills him. How could he have forgotten the wonderful fact that he could now see Ben again? This time without the barrier of death separating them. Ben better be prepared for the biggest hug in the history of hugs.

Klaus bursts through the door to the shack, Ben’s name on his lips, only to pull up short when he finds himself standing in his father’s old office. 

He turns, but the door is closed behind him, and a quick tug on the handle does nothing to budge it. He then catches sight of his body, realizing with dismay that he is somehow a teenager again, and dressed in the Academy uniform he had despised for so many years.

“Number Four.” 

The sound of his father’s voice has Klaus spinning around in shock to find none other than Reginald Hargreeves sitting behind his desk, his cold gaze fixed on Klaus. And Klaus feels frozen under that gaze, curling in on himself defensively, suddenly feeling like a child again.

Perhaps this is hell, after all.

“Dad?” Klaus croaks out.

“What in _god's_ _name_ took you so long?” Reginald demands, “I would have expected my son, who can conjure the dead, to have brought me forth days ago.” 

“I–” Klaus nearly finds himself preparing to apologize when he remembers that he is no longer some 13-year kid, scared of his own powers and his father’s disappointment. The reminder has him standing taller and letting a disinterested expression slip over his face.

“Yes, well, been a little busy. Being kidnapped and all that.” Klaus shrugs, enjoying the frown it brings to Reginald’s face. 

“Don’t give me excuses for your own weakness.” Reginald barks out, “you should never have been caught so unawares. I trained you better than that.”

“Yeah, locking me in a mausoleum for hours at a time. Really A+ parenting there.”

Reginald leans forward, peering at him through his monocle, and the weight of having his father's full attention focused solely on him sends a shiver down Klaus's spine.

“I only wanted for you to live up to your potential." Reginald shakes his head. "You remain my greatest disappointment, Number Four. You barely scratched the surface of what you were truly capable of. If only you had _focused–_ ”

“Wait, wait, wait. What… what potential?” Klaus interrupts, but as always, is ignored.

“But instead, you let fear drive you, pumping yourself full of poison and squandering the opportunities I provided you with.”

“Well, you know what, _fuck you_ , dad.” Klaus spits back. “Your greatest achievement was creating the most dysfunctional group of superheroes in the world. You can blame us all you want, but in the end, it was your own shitty parenting that led to this."

"I did what was necessary to prepare you all for something bigger than yourselves. You never understood that.” Reginald’s response is as condescending as ever.

“Of course we didn’t! We were just kids. _Little_ kids." Klaus isn’t sure why he is attempting to argue with his father when the man never listened to anyone’s opinion but his own, but he felt like he owed his siblings and a childhood full of trauma to try.

“You were never _just_ kids." His father’s response is expected, until– “you are meant to save the world.”

“Wait, _wait_. So all that stuff Five’s been spouting, about the end times… that’s all true?”

“Five has returned?” Reginald asks sharply, leaning forward and Klaus nods, surprised at the sudden change in demeanor. Reginald sits back in his seat again, looking thoughtful and murmuring to himself. “This changes things. We have less time than I thought.”

“Care to share?” Klaus interjects with as much exasperation as he can muster, wanting this exhausting conversation done so he can find Ben. 

Reginald fixes him with another piercing stare before rising from his chair and walking around the desk. Klaus stumbles back a step at Reginald’s sudden advance before forcing himself to hold his ground, refusing to be cowed in his father’s presence – even though the sight of his father looming over him brings back less than pleasant memories of being dragged to the crypts – his cries and pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

“Listen carefully to me, Number Four. What I am about to tell you is of great importance–” 

“Look, as much as I would love to play storytime with you, _dear papa,_ ” Klaus interrupts, “I really don’t give two shits what you have to say.” 

Reginald’s hand moves faster than Klaus could comprehend, gripping his uniform's lapel and pulling him forward. Klaus stumbles, his breath catching in fear as he attempts to pull the hand away, but Reginald’s grip is unyielding.

“You can’t run from this.” Reginald shakes him a little, “you think I did all this just to let you walk away?”

“You did nothing but fuck us all up!” Klaus shouts back in his face. “Five left because of you. Ben _died_ because of you! Do you even care?”

Reginald’s expression doesn’t waver.

“Everything I have done has always been for the good of the earth.”

“Oh right, so that justifies the abuse you inflicted on us.”

“Yes.” The answer is immediate, not even a hint of remorse to be seen, and Klaus is reminded again why his father had terrified him so much. The man who they had been forced to call father saw them as nothing but a means to an end. Nameless subjects in some twisted experiment.

“Sacrifices must always be made for the greater good.”

“Easy to say when you aren’t the one in being sacrificed.”

“Stupid boy.” Reginald shakes him again. “Why do you think I am dead right now?”

Klaus blinks, not following.

“I knew the apocalypse was coming and that only the Umbrella Academy could stop it. I did what was necessary to ensure you and your siblings were reunited.”

“What are you saying…” Klaus gets a sick feeling in his stomach.

“The only way to get you all back together was something… momentous.” 

“You don’t mean… you _killed_ yourself?” His father's silence is answer enough.

A laugh bubbles out of Klaus’s mouth before he can stop it. "Oh _christ_ , you could never do things the easy way, could you? You couldn't have, I dunno, picked up a phone?"

"Would any of you have answered?" Klaus doesn't bother replying because they both know what the answer to that would have been. 

“Any other earth-shattering truths you want to drop on me while you are at it?” Klaus asks, relieved when Reginald lets go of his shirt and moves back to lean against his desk.

“I need you to pass on a message to Number Five.”

Klaus laughs again. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but we are both dead. I can’t do shit.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I have neither the time nor the patience to explain to you what will soon become apparent. Now tell me, does Number Seven still take her pills?" The random segue throws Klaus for a loop.

"Vanya? I don’t- I barely speak to Vanya. How the hell should I know." The mention of pills has Klaus realizing just how normal he feels, with no pain or withdrawal symptoms. He barely even remembers a time when he had last felt this good. Now, if only he could enjoy it in peace.

"You must inform Number Five that Number Seven is the trigger he has been searching for.”

“Trigger for what?” Klaus asks before he realizes what his father is hinting at. “Wait– are you really telling me Vanya is going to cause an apocalypse?” Klaus laughs. The sound is slightly hysterical. “Death might have addled your brain there, dad. Vanya wouldn’t harm a fly.”

“There are things you don’t understand. Your sister is–” 

The room suddenly distorts, the rest of Reginald’s sentence getting lost in an unintelligible warble. Klaus stumbles as the wall stretch and ripple like a bad trip before snapping back to normal.

“What the hell…”

“We don’t have long. Now _focus_ , Number Four.” Reginald snaps his fingers like Klaus is some dog he is calling to heel. “It is imperative you tell Five what I have just told you. The answers to everything can be found in my notebook.” Reginald turns and lifts a familiar red, leather-bound book off his desk and into view.

Klaus gets a niggling feeling at the back of his mind. 

“You will find it in my office. There is a false bottom to the top drawer, and you will find it in a locked box, the key of which can be found–”

Klaus tunes his father out as the niggle gets stronger, recalling the fancy box he had found in Reginald’s office during his ransacking on the day of his funeral – the one he had emptied of documents and a certain red leather-bound book into the dumpster outside the Academy before pawning it to get drugs. Well shit.

“–Five will know what needs to be done.” Reginald finishes, and Klaus blinks at him stupidly, having lost track of what his father had been saying.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Reginald asks with a narrowed gaze.

“No, no, I got it. Find the book, give it to Five. Save the world, blah, blah,” Klaus repeats begrudgingly, wondering exactly why Reginald is so insistent on telling him this when he is dead.

His dad’s expression gets more severe. 

“This is no joking matter. The very fate of the world now rests in your hands.”

“Oh great, no pressure then!” 

Reginald opens his mouth, looking ready to scold him before the room distorts around them again, worse than before, and Klaus closes his eyes at the disorienting display, stumbling blindly as the floor shifts under his feet.

When the world seems to settle around him, Klaus reopens his eyes to find himself standing on the same stretch of road as before, once again in his adult body. There is no sign of Reginald or the strange shack he had just stepped out of.

“It’s time.” Klaus spins around to find the girl from before is back, this time without the bike.

“Time for what?”

“I'm sending you back.”

“But I thought… I’m dead.” 

“Yes,” the girl crossed her arms, “but that doesn’t mean I want you here.”

“But I don’t want to go back.” The admission slips past his lips before he has a chance to stop it. He feels ashamed and guilty for wanting to stay dead, but it wasn’t really like anyone would miss him. Well, maybe Diego, but he would get over it soon enough. Klaus only brought trouble into his life. And it is peaceful here, no ghosts around to haunt him when he’s already dead. 

"Couldn't I just stay here?" He asks.

“You have more of a role to play in the land of the living.” She tells him, and Klaus realizes that his father had known all along that this would happen. He had dumped all the information on him, insistent that he tells Five about Vanya and her obscure role in the apocalypse. Klaus wants to rage at how unfair everything was. Even in death, it seemed he couldn’t catch a break.

“I can’t be _that_ important! I’m just useless Number Four!” He tries, one last time, to convince the girl he is better off dead.

But she ignores his plea, lifting her fingers and looking him dead in the eye. 

"Don't fuck this up."

"No wait, please–" Klaus lurches towards her but is too late.

She snaps her fingers, and the world disappears around him.

Klaus jerks back to life, his head colliding with something hard as he flails to regain his bearings.

He can feel something solid wrapped tight around him, and it takes a moment for his brain to register that it’s Diego.

And it is also Diego’s head, which he just collided with, going by the swearing in his ear that quickly turns to stunned silence.

Klaus opens his eyes to see Diego’s and Ben’s faces above him. They are both wide-eyed, and although Ben is incapable of crying as a ghost, Diego's cheeks are wet with tears.

“K-Klaus?”

“Hey bro,” he responds weakly, lifting his ‘hello’ palm in greeting. 

“But– you were dead,” Diego says in a stunned whisper, his hand coming up to cup the side of Klaus’s neck, and it takes him a moment to realize Diego is feeling for his pulse.

“Yeah, I suppose I was." He thinks back on the monochrome world he had been in and the little girl who had kicked him out without hesitation.

“Klaus, you’ve been _dead_ for 10 minutes,” Ben reiterates, looking far more shaken than Klaus had ever seen him - and that included the first time Klaus saw Ben as a ghost.

“Only 10 minutes?” His trip upstairs felt much longer. God, he needs a drink.

"Only 10... what? Klaus, be serious here."

“I’m dead serious, Diego.”

“Are you– you’re seriously joking about this right now?” Diego splutters, looking torn between anger and relief.

"It's either that or start screaming hysterically," Klaus admits, feeling a strong urge to start laughing, considering his life simply – and death – seem to be one big joke.

Klaus starts to push himself up, but Diego immediately pushes him back down.

“Diego, I’m fine.” Klaus whines, the blood – _his_ blood – starting to dry tacky against his skin.

“ _Bullshit,_ ” Diego responds, “you were shot. You _died_. You don’t just wake up from that.”

“Well, clearly, _I_ just did! Can I sit up now?”

"No. Not until I check, you aren't going to die on me again." Klaus can hear the edge of very real fear in Diego's voice and so concedes with a huff.

"Ugh, fine." He flops back dramatically, only to wince when his body protests, still feeling like angry horses have trampled on it. 

Yes, perhaps laying there a little longer would be better.

Diego pushes his now bloodstained trench coat aside, and Klaus looks down to find that the bullet wound is still there in the middle of his chest. Yet, it looks scabbed over like it is already halfway towards healing, and the burning sensation of hot metal in his body blissfully absent.

How about that for divine healing?

Diego brushes his fingers gently over the wound, his expression as disbelieving as Ben’s.

“Could this be a new power?” Ben asks, and Klaus shrugs, still struggling to come to terms with the surreal time he’d just had in the afterlife and the whole conversation with his father – particularly the knowledge that Reginald had killed himself to reunite the Umbrella Academy and prevent an upcoming apocalypse that Vanya was somehow the cause of.

Klaus isn’t relishing the prospect of explaining to any of his siblings what he had just experienced or learned, mainly because he knew they were unlikely to take any of what he has to share seriously. And considering what he has to say, he wouldn’t blame them. Perhaps he could just get drunk instead because _fuck dad._ Five seemed to have everything under control anyway, so it’s not like he needs Klaus’s help.

Diego is still staring at the bullet wound, and Klaus shifts, feeling ickier the longer he had to lay a pool of his own congealed blood. 

“So, uh, as great as this all is. I would really appreciate it if I could get off the floor now and go home. I have a nice bottle of vodka at home with my name on it.”

Diego startles at Klaus’s voice, coming out of whatever weird moment he had been having. He looks back up to meet Klaus’s gaze and opens his mouth to speak, but the noise at the door has them all turning, and they meet the shocked gaze of Detective Patch. 

“You– but you’re dead.” She says to Klaus before wincing, as though realizing how untactful that had come out.

“Yeah, didn’t stick,” Klaus props himself up on an elbow and gives her a wide grin. 

“That’s– that should be impossible.”

“Well, death is kinda my thing, so clearly not so impossible.” Klaus doesn’t miss the look Ben gives him, the look that promises a long conversation in which Ben would pester him for details on just how he came back from the dead. Klaus would really like an answer to that too. Or at least one that made a little more sense.

The detective's eyes flicker down to the umbrella tattoo currently on display on his wrist, and he sees her put the pieces together before she turns to Diego. 

"Did you know about this?" 

Diego shakes his head. 

“No, he’s never–” Diego looks down at him, expression questioning and just slightly worried, “you’ve never done this before… right?”

“Nope,” Klaus reassures, seeing Diego relax slightly. “Trust me. I don’t make a habit of dying.”

“Oh, so that explains all the drug overdoses then?” Ben snipes, not unkindly, clearly trying to reestablish the typical morbid banter between them, despite the shakiness of his voice. Klaus pokes his tongue out at him in response.

“We would appreciate it if you could keep this quiet,” Diego asks the detective, who is still looking a little freaked out, her eyes flicking to Klaus’s uncovered chest where the bullet wound is fully visible, but after a pause, she nods, gathering herself.

“Who do you think I am? I’m no Beaman.”

Diego cracks a small grin at that, clearly some sort of in-joke between them.

“Okay, well, I’ll let the EMT’s know we have another–”

“No, no ambulance. No hospitals.” Klaus quickly speaks up, not really wanting to endure the poking and prodding or questions about his miraculous return from the dead. Not to mention the number of ghosts that would be waiting for him in the hospital now he was sober enough to see them. He shudders to think of it.

“I can’t let you leave in this condition. You’re injured, and I will need to get your statement on what happened here.”

“We have a medical room at the Academy. We can treat him there.” Diego comes to his rescue, and Klaus could have kissed him in gratitude – potential stabbing be damned.

Patch hesitates a moment longer before conceding. “Fine, but I will be around later to get a witness statement from both of you.”

Diego nods his agreement, and Eudora moves to leave before turning back when she reaches the doorway.

“You might want to leave in the next couple of minutes before this place gets swarmed with forensics.”

“Thank you, Eudora,” Diego says, with more sincerity than Klaus had ever heard from his brother, and with the moon eyes they are making at each other, Klaus knows the relationship his brother has with Detective Patch is more than just _friends_.

“Yes, _thank you_ , Eudora.” He mimics, fluttering his eyelashes for good measure and letting out a laugh when Diego smacks him – gently – on the shoulder in retaliation.

“Just because you are injured now doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass later.”

“Oh, Diego, who knew you cared so much!”

“Whatever, let’s get out of here,” Diego says, and Klaus nods, eager to be getting off the floor.

With a lot of help, Diego, Klaus manages to stand, stumbling slightly when he gets to his feet, still feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the blood loss. Despite coming back from the dead and being healed from a fatal gunshot wound, he still feels ten different types of awful. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to walk out under his own power.

“Diego, I’m fine. I can do this myself.” Klaus complains when his brother refuses to let him go. Diego eyes him skeptically but concedes, dropping the arms that had been holding him up and gesturing to the door in the clear invitation to go first.

Klaus takes a shaky step, only to have his knees immediately buckle under him. 

Strong arms catch him from behind, and Klaus hears Diego grunt as Klaus falls back against his chest. Klaus grips Diego's arms, blinking the black spots from his vision, and the next thing he knows, he is being lifted into the air, Diego managing it with surprising ease.

“Hey!” Klaus protests, even as he quickly clings onto his brother’s shoulders to steady himself. “I can walk.”

“Yes, as you clearly just demonstrated.” Diego returns drily, and Klaus whacks his shoulder in retaliation before conceding defeat. He knows Diego’s stubbornness will outweigh his own, and he really did feel awful now the adrenaline kick he’d gotten from coming back to life has worn off.

"Oh, my dark knight, my _hero_." Klaus pretends to swoon, figuring he might as well have fun instead.

"Idiot," Diego grumbles, but the word is spoken fondly. His expression is still stuck in awed disbelief. Ben rolls his eyes from where he is standing by the door.

They make slow progress towards the parking lot, navigating around the cops and a growing crowd of civilians who had emerged from the other motel rooms to rubberneck. They get a few strange looks, but Diego’s glare has them quickly looking the other way, while Klaus makes sure to cover as much of his blood-covered body with the trench coat as possible, knowing full well how terrible he must look. Ben is hovering at their side, and Klaus wants to laugh at the pair of mother-hens his brothers have become but warmed by the attention nonetheless.

By the time they make it to the car, Klaus can feel Diego’s exhaustion in every step, clearly coming down from his own adrenaline high but stubborn enough to refuse to put Klaus down until they are right next to his car. 

Diego drops Klaus on his feet to lean against the side of the car while he pops the trunk, pulling out a ratty blanket and a pair of gym shorts. The blanket goes across the back seat before Diego kneels in front of him with the shorts.

In any other circumstance, Klaus might have made a dirty joke, but currently, it is all he can do to keep himself upright and lift his legs as Diego helps him into the shorts, patient with Klaus in a way he rarely is. 

As expected, the shorts are loose on his narrow frame, sitting low on his hips, even with the waistband rolled up a few times. But Klaus is beyond grateful to finally be rid of the towel, which had become crusted with his own blood and grime from the past two days. He also shrugs off the blood-soaked trench coat, and Diego bundles it all together to toss in the trunk. 

Klaus then crawls gratefully into the back of the car, his body relaxing against the seats' soft surface. After being tied to a chair for the past 48 hours, the back of a car feels like heaven. 

He curls his legs up until he is in a fetal position, listening to the sounds of Diego getting into the car and turning on the heater, the warm air drifting across the seats into the back, easing the tremors that are running through his body.

And then, lulled by the warmth and the feeling of safety from being watched over by his siblings, Klaus falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now officially my most popular story on AO3 and I’m shook. Like, _wow_ , thank you all so much.
> 
> Also, sorry for the wait for this chapter! My excuse is that I binged all of season 2, cried a bit, binged it again, cried some more, and started to write a bunch of fix-it fics. But my priority going forward is still this story! Leave a comment and let me know what you think of this recent chapter and what you might like to see next, I might take some suggestions into account! ♥︎
> 
> (and if you wanna come scream at me about season 2 you can find me on twitter @bloodamber26)


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